Getting Back
by JamiW
Summary: Pre-season 10 oneshot.  This is a different take than my previous s10 story - just my thoughts on another possibility for the missing year.


**A/N: **I know KE mentioned that Eames was demoted and still with the NYPD during the year of absence, but the writers left her hanging with that storyline by not mentioning a single word about where she'd been, so I went my own route.

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><p><strong>Alex POV<strong>

* * *

><p>Ten years ago, if anyone had tried to tell me that this was how my life would go, I would've laughed.<p>

Hysterically.

Not because my life is funny, but because at _that_ point, ten years ago, _this_ would've seemed impossible.

I would _not_ have quit Major Case.

I would _not_ be unemployed.

I would _not_ be romantically involved with my partner. Or rather, _former_ partner, but still…

And yet presently all three of those things were true.

And honestly, of the three, the most surprising was my relationship with Bobby.

And it was also the last of the three to occur.

When I walked out of Major Case, basically telling Moran to stick the captain's job up his ass, I'd pretty much been going on instinct.

It was just morally wrong for me to continue working in a place that was so dead set on treating Bobby so poorly.

At the time, I hadn't admitted that I was in love with him.

"_Why'd you do that_?" Bobby had asked me, clearly in distress over the matter.

It was later that same night, after I'd called Moran and then left my gun and badge locked in the empty office.

_"Because,"_ I'd answered simply. _"They were wrong."_

_"To fire me? It's been coming, you know that. Alex…you need to call him back and tell him you changed your mind. It's probably not too late."_

_"I'm not calling him."_

He'd looked at me, completely flustered and nonplussed, as though he couldn't fathom the idea that I'd quit my job.

_"Alex…"_ he tried again.

_"It's done,"_ I said firmly. _"End of discussion."_

We had a stare-off, with me projecting my stubbornness and him trying to gently intimidate me into reevaluating my decision.

Guess who won.

_"So…okay," _he said at last._ "What now?"_

_"Now you're going to use some of those contacts you have and get both of us a job," _I'd answered with a smirk.

And that's what he did.

Within three weeks, the two of us were working for the DEA as Intelligence Specialists.

It wasn't the most stimulating job, because we spent a lot of time behind our desks, but it was better than the alternative.

Not working together or not working at all.

And it did have its moments of excitement.

But for the most part, what it did was give Bobby and I the opportunity to grow closer together.

As friends.

We'd already been fairly close after so many years in Major Case, but suddenly we were even closer.

Maybe it was because I'd remained firmly by his side, even through something as monumental as a career change.

Maybe it had given him a sense of the fact that he was important in my life.

Because he is.

_Very_ important.

Like I said, I was in love with him.

I _am_ in love with him, but we were six months into our new job before it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Crazy, really, since when I try to explain it, the moment seems so small and insignificant, but it wasn't.

It was eye-opening.

It was a Friday evening in late September. We'd just clocked out and we were leaving the building.

"_Do you want to get something to eat?"_ he'd asked me.

"_Sure."_

"_So you don't…have plans or anything?"_

"_Plans? You're my plans. What, you think I have this whole secret life that you don't know about?"_

He'd shrugged and continued to look at me, as though he thought maybe it was plausible.

"_I don't have plans,"_ I said firmly.

And then his phone rang, and I found myself listening to his half of a conversation with one of his friends.

Because apparently Bobby _did_ have a life other than me.

He hung up and looked at me apologetically.

"_What?"_

"_Oh, that was just Lewis. He's having some guys over for poker."_

"_Tonight?"_

"_Yeah, but I told him I'm busy."_

"_But you're not. Go. You'll have fun."  
><em>

"_I'm not ditching you."_

"_It's fine. It'll give you a chance to relax and be yourself."_

"_That's what I was going to do anyway."_

"_With me?"_

"_If I can't be myself with you then when can I be?"_

I stood my ground, and so then he said, _"Fine. I'll go, but you have to come with me. You probably play cards better than half of those guys anyway."_

He stared at me for a long moment, and I found myself unable to look away from him.

And I realized that I _wanted_ to go with him.

It didn't matter where he was going.

A dark, dirty, smoky room full of loud-mouthed guys telling dirty jokes was preferable to being anywhere _without_ him.

And that's when I knew.

I felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

I mean, I'd _quit my job_ for him.

My career.

The one thing I'd always pictured myself doing.

It had to be love.

But even after my belated revelation, I still didn't say anything because I didn't want to ruin this great thing we had going.

And really, the only thing that might change if I confessed my feelings would be that we might start having sex.

Assuming he felt the same.

Because other than that, it was almost like we were already in a relationship, even though we'd never established it as such.

We spent a large portion of our off time together.

We talked to each other about most everything.

And neither of us dated anyone else.

So it wasn't worth blowing it because there was the possibility that he didn't think of me as a _sexual_ interest, and I didn't want it to get awkward and uncomfortable if I suddenly started spouting out confessions of love while he was still looking at me like a sister.

So things went on smoothly for another six months.

Until the day another agent accosted me in the break room.

He'd had it in for me from the beginning, although I was never sure why. It might be because he asked me out once, and I turned him down, but I'd been nice about it, so there was no reason to hold a grudge, and yet he did.

He always made snide remarks to me and he'd get in little digs in front of the boss at every opportunity, just to try to make me look bad.

And then that day…it was mid-March, and Bobby and I had come in early because our backlog was getting unmanageable.

So around seven-thirty, when we'd already been hard at it for more than an hour, I got up and went into the break room to get us some coffee.

That's when Agent Dickhead grabbed my ass.

And I don't mean he patted it, or ran his hand over it…I mean he came up behind me as I was spooning sugar into my mug, and he pinned me against the counter with his body as he reached down between us and squeezed my butt.

And he said something, too.

Something along the lines of why did I have to play hard to get and be such a tease, wearing tight jeans all of the time.

Or something similar. I don't remember his exact words.

But I do remember what I did next.

I turned around and broke my mug on his head.

It was just a knee-jerk reaction…self-preservation in response to the violation of my personal space.

I didn't even think about the hardness of the mug in my hand, or the fact that the blow might catch him in the temple.

But it _was_ hard, and it _did_ hit him in the soft spot on the side of his forehead, and he dropped like a rock, passed out cold.

Another agent came in and saw his fallen colleague and called 9-1-1.

It turned into quite the scene.

Ultimately, my boss decided that I'd shown a serious lack of restraint and poor judgment, and that my conduct was unbecoming that of a DEA agent.

While he agreed that I'd been sexually harassed, my response was deemed as disproportionate to the offense, and he handed me my walking papers.

I've never been fired before, from any job, and it was humiliating to say the least.

When I came out of the boss' office and headed for my desk so that I could gather my personal effects, Bobby took one look at my face, and I guess he just knew.

He quickly got up from his chair, already wired from hearing the details of the incident anyway, and he pinned me with a questioning look.

"_He fired you?"_ he'd asked sharply. "_For that? He's lucky you didn't kill the son of a bitch. I still might."_

"_It's okay, Bobby,"_ I said soothingly, so that he wouldn't let his temper get the best of him.

Mine was already in overdrive, and one of us probably needed to stay calm.

"_It's not okay,"_ he fired back. "_Give me a minute."_

Before I could say another word, he stormed into the boss' office.

One minute later, he was back out and boy, was he ever mad. It'd been awhile since I'd seen him that ticked. Probably since our final case at MCS.

"_What did you say?"_ I asked him in a low whisper, since we were still the focal point in the room.

"_I quit."_

"_You what? Bobby, no…"_

"_Let's go,"_ he interrupted, grabbing his binder from his desk and his jacket from the back of his chair.

Twenty minutes later, we had our first fight since we started this whole surreal, not working for the NYPD, best friend thing.

"_You can't quit just because I got fired!"_ I yelled at him as we stood out on the sidewalk.

"_What, you're the only one allowed to do that?"_

"_No, it's…dammit, Bobby, it's not the same thing!"_

"_It's the exact same thing. You shouldn't have been fired, and you know it. There's no way I could've kept working there, knowing how badly they screwed you over. Does that sound familiar to you? At all?"_ he shouted back.

So I stood there, letting his words sink in and thinking that maybe he had a point.

And he stood there, his eyes boring into mine and his chest heaving from the frenzy he'd worked himself in to.

"_Yeah, okay, it sounds familiar,"_ I said at last.

"_Okay,"_ he replied, still sounding somewhat irritated.

"_So…do you know anybody at the federal building? Because you know we're unemployed again,"_ I said, unable to contain a smile despite our situation.

I mean, it was kind of funny. We were right back where we'd been nearly a year ago.

He ducked his head, but not before I saw the smile.

"_What is wrong with us?"_ he asked casually as we headed down the sidewalk.

"_Something. You know, it's a good thing we have each other because I don't think anyone else would be able to stand either of us."_

He glanced sideways at me, and it occurred to me that maybe my comment was a little too revealing about my true feelings.

And then I decided that I didn't care.

I'd quit for him.

He'd quit for me.

Could it be any more obvious?

And maybe we'd never say it, but we both knew it.

That night, we sat on his couch watching a movie. We'd picked up take-out after our bickering session on the sidewalk…_after_ we lost our jobs…and then we'd holed up in his apartment for the evening.

But the movie wasn't holding my attention and a quick glance at Bobby told me that it wasn't capturing his, either.

"_Are you having second thoughts? Because you could probably call the boss and tell him you lost your temper…maybe apologize…"_

"_No,"_ he said firmly. "_Are we really going to do a repeat of the whole scenario from last year?"_

"_I just…I don't know, Bobby. I can't believe that this is my life."_

"_You wish you were back at Major Case,"_ he said quietly.

I leaned my head back against the couch and turned to look at him.

"_I wish _we_ were back,"_ I answered. "_Don't you miss it?"_

He held my gaze and sighed and then he surprised me by reaching out to push my hair back from my face.

I mean, he touches me from time to time. Innocuous, friendly touches. But this seemed so intimate and tender, and his light touch combined with the heat of his gaze…I found myself losing track of our conversation.

"_Yeah, I do. But that's never going to happen,"_ he said sadly.

And then he leaned over and kissed me.

Even with the gentle touch, I wasn't expecting the kiss.

That was something we'd never done, or at least not on the lips.

But it was easy and exploratory and it increased in intensity as the minutes ticked away and then his hand, the one that had pushed back my hair, was suddenly sliding down my back, pulling me closer to him as he simultaneously eased himself closer to me, and then his other hand, the one that had been trapped between us, found my hand and he clasped onto my fingers so that he was holding my hand while he continued to work his lips over mine in the most intoxicating and arousing manner and I found the whole experience to be just so…perfect.

I tried not to be disappointed when some time later, he slowly pulled away. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, and his lips still close to mine, and I watched him as he purposefully ran his tongue over his lips as though he was trying to capture my taste.

"_Bobby…"_ I began, but my voice came out so raspy that it barely sounded like me, and I completely forgot whatever it was that I was going to say.

He opened his eyes and locked his gaze onto mine, hesitantly at first as though he thought maybe I was upset with him for kissing me, but then he said, _"Earlier you said that it's a good thing we have each other."_

_"You don't agree?"_

_"I guess I just…didn't know…that I _have_ you."_

I kept watching him as I realized that he was handing me the keys. He was letting me decide whether or not it was a good idea for us to push forward.

Of course, after the way he'd just kissed me, I'd have a really hard time saying anything that wasn't going to net me another kiss.

But since it was the truth, it worked out just fine.

"_Do you…want to have me?" _I asked with what I hoped was a flirtatious look.

Because I wanted this to be fun.

I wanted it to be more of what we already had, only better.

His eyes darkened at my overtly sexual remark, and it hit me that as well as I know Bobby – and I know him _very_ well – I didn't know this side of him.

I didn't know what it was like to have him unleash his passion in my direction.

Or I _didn't_.

Now I do.

Because that night, we crossed that final line that for some reason we'd been hanging onto like a life preserver.

And we both realized that we didn't need that line anymore. Things were so much better without it.

In fact, they were so good that for a whole week, we didn't worry about our lack of employment. Instead, we spent the time getting to know each other in the most intimate and carnal of ways.

And so now it was Saturday, a week and a day after we left the DEA, and we were having lunch at an outdoor café in mid-town.

"Bobby Goren."

"Joe," Bobby replied as he stood up from the table to shake our unexpected guest's hand. "It's been a long time."

Bobby waved his friend into one of the empty chairs at our table, so Joe sat down and then looked at me inquisitively.

"Um…Joe Hannah, Alex Eames."

"Oh," Joe said with interest as he shook my hand, and then he glanced curiously at Bobby. "Your old partner."

"Joe and I worked together for awhile, right after the academy," Bobby explained to me, and then he said to Joe, "Although I didn't realize you'd kept up with me. It's been years…long before I was partnered with Alex."

Joe leaned back in his chair and eyeballed the two of us, and I couldn't help but feel like I was being scrutinized, although for the purpose of what, I had no idea.

I was suddenly aware of the fact that maybe my chair was too close to Bobby's, causing our legs to touch beneath the table.

But then I had to stop worrying.

This man was no one to us, and it's not like we were doing anything wrong.

We were two out of work cops, enjoying each other's company.

"I just took over the captain's job at Major Case," Joe stated.

"Congratulations," I replied.

"Uh huh," he said, nodding and smiling in this weird, crooked way. "I understand that job was yours a year ago."

"Very briefly," I clarified.

"I didn't know you were interested in the brass track," Bobby spoke up. "But I guess it suits you."

"That remains to be seen. Right now there's no real leadership…no cohesion…I've got my work cut out for me," he said, shaking his head. And then he looked at Bobby and said, "You know, I looked you guys up. I mean, I wanted to find out why the department's been such a mess for the past year, and imagine my surprise when I saw that it coincided with the departure of the great Bobby Goren. So then I had to find out more about the partner who managed to keep you in line for so long…you two are legendary at Major Case."

"Were," I corrected.

"Right. You left and went to the DEA. How's that working out?"

"It's not," Bobby admitted. "But we're looking at the Bureau now."

Joe narrowed his eyes as he continued to study us. He seemed affable enough, but I could tell he had a lot going on behind those country-boy features.

"Moran tells me I've got six months to prove myself," he said.

"I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully. "But I'll probably be better if I can get you two to come back."

"What?"

"I'm serious. I mean, what are the odds that I'd run into the two of you while I'm trying to sort out how best to jumpstart the revitalization of Major Case? Not only that, but you're both between jobs. How's that for fate?"

"I don't see Moran welcoming me back," Bobby said, although I could hear the hopefulness in his voice, and beneath the table, he put his hand on my leg, squeezing gently.

And I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"But Alex might be interested."

As if I'd take the job without him.

"Alex might be," I agreed. "If we can both come back."

Bobby cast me a worried look, and I knew what he was thinking.

Even if his friend managed to get us back, where did that leave _us_?

It's not like we could maintain a relationship while working as partners for the NYPD.

Or at least, not openly.

But Joe perked up immediately at my willingness to hear him out. He sat up in the chair and put his forearms on the table.

"I might be able to make it work. But I read your jacket, Bobby. Making it work will probably include some kind of counseling. At least temporarily."

I met Bobby's gaze as I tried to stifle the excitement.

Wasn't this exactly what we wanted?

Work-wise, I mean.

We'd both admitted that we missed it. Any other job just didn't hold the same appeal.

"I don't like the idea of talking to a shrink," Bobby began, still looking at me. "But…if that's what it takes…"

"So you're interested? Because I can get Moran on the phone today and make it happen, but I don't want to jump through his hoops if you're going to say no," he said excitedly.

"We're interested," I answered after we reached a silent agreement.

And since Joe seemed to want us back so badly, I decided that we needed to offer him full disclosure.

Because it would be one thing to hide our relationship from Moran. We barely had to deal with him.

But our captain…if we were working closely with him, it was bound to come out sooner or later.

Bobby was with me, I could tell, because he reached over and put his hand over mine.

"There's something else," Bobby said carefully. We both turned towards Joe, and I watched him as his gaze shifted down to our hands and then back to Bobby.

"Don't say it," he said quickly. "I mean, I get it. It's not like I thought I walked in on a reunion here. But just don't say it, okay?"

"Plausible deniability?" I asked him.

"Selfishness," he corrected with a grin. "I want you both back, working as partners. And it's none of my business what you do away from 1PP."

Then he got up from the table and straightened his jacket.

"So…my office on Monday? I'll lay out the ground rules, and if everything's agreeable, you can start next week."

"We'll be there Monday," Bobby said. "Let's just take it one step at a time."

Our first step was to go back to my place and celebrate.

"You got your wish," Bobby whispered to me as he held me in his arms.

We were in my bed, with the sheets tangled near our feet. But despite the coolness of the room, I didn't need the covers. I was already overheated from the extended love-making session we'd finished only moments ago.

"Uh huh," I agreed. "And we get to go back to Major Case, too."

He smiled and pulled me closer, dropping a kiss onto the top of my head.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I asked him. "I know how you hate the idea of counseling. All that talk about your past and feelings…and you know the shrink will ask about me, and our partnership. You'll have to lie."

"I lied to myself about my feelings for you for years," he said. "Faking out the shrink shouldn't be a problem."

"Your feelings for me," I murmured. "I'm not sure you've ever mentioned them."

He moved his hand to my chin, tipping my head up from where I'd been resting it against his chest.

"You have to ask?"

"No," I answered quietly. Because I didn't have to ask.

He loves me every bit as much as I love him.

"Good. I'd hate to think we lost our ability to know what each other is thinking."

I settled against his chest again, comfortable with the fact that it was difficult for him to say the words. And of course, I haven't said them yet either, so…

"I love you, Alex."

I looked up at him again, surprised that he'd said it even after I was willing to let it go.

I couldn't stop the smile at the sound of his words.

It was like the whole past year had happened for a reason.

_This_.

Otherwise we might never have gotten here.

And now that we were _here_, everything else was shifting back to normal.

We were getting our badges back.

And that probably sounds like a whole crazy line of destiny and meant-to-be silly romance, but it's still true.

I reached up and kissed him, taking my time with the moment while I practiced the long-unspoken words in my head.

And then I said them out loud.

"I love you, too."

Monday, we met with Joe.

Or Captain, as we were now going to have to call him.

Because his terms were reasonable. We would return as partners on the condition that Bobby attended eight sessions with a department shrink, who would then determine whether or not he was fit for duty.

And there was no question about that.

He wasn't crazy and he wasn't a ticking time bomb, as Moran liked to say.

He's just a passionate and emotional man who had to deal with a lot in recent years.

But he's been so much happier lately, and I like to think that it's partly because of me.

I certainly know that _I've_ been smiling a lot more.

"Doesn't this feel weird?" Bobby asked me on the morning of our first day due back.

"Because we're getting dressed together before we go to 1PP?" I asked him as I moved in front of him and straightened his tie.

He smiled and shrugged, "Well, yeah. And I'll have to work all day, pretending like I haven't seen you naked…"

I barked out a laugh and stepped away to grab my jacket.

"Once we get a case, you'll forget all about me."

"Never," he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

"Okay, so maybe you won't forget, but we'll be busy working. You can think about me naked later."

"I don't want to _think_ about it. I want to _see_ it," he corrected, still hugging me to him.

"Then be a good boy," I teased, loving his playful mood. Before, I'd only caught glimpses of his mischievousness, but in the past year I'd been seeing it a lot, and I was glad to see that it wasn't going away just because we were going back to Major Case.

It gave me hope that things would really be different this time around.

Better, different.

We arrived at 1PP and went immediately to personnel where we signed for our badges and guns, and got new ID cards.

Once we were finished there, we rode the elevator up to the eleventh floor.

"I'm nervous," Bobby said quietly.

"Why?" I asked, aware of the fact that this was different, too. He was opening up to me and admitting his emotions.

"I don't know. I feel like everyone's going to be watching us. And who knows what's changed since we left."

"Small things, maybe, but it's just like riding a bike."

"The last time I rode a bike, I crashed into a street sign," he told me as a smile creeped across his face. I chuckled at him and bumped him with my shoulder.

"Trust me. We'll be here for five minutes and it'll feel like we never left."

And that was pretty much true.

Two hours after our arrival, the captain brought us a case, so we headed for the crime scene where we were met by the local precinct's homicide detective.

"The apartment was rented to Sarah Bell," she informed us. "Neighbors heard a shot at around nine-fifteen a.m. Her boyfriend found her about ten."

"Why'd you call us?"

"College girl gets popped, parents get freaked. Welcome back, Detectives."

"First responders left her in the carpet," I stated while Bobby walked over to where the victim lay, still mostly hidden, inside of a rolled-up rug.

"Paramedics took her pulse, they knew she was gone…they left her for you."

"Alright, let's just…clear this area out," Bobby said firmly as he motioned everyone away by waving his arms. "Please."

He glanced at me briefly, giving me a barely perceptible look, but that was all I needed.

He was telling me that I was right, and it _was_ just like riding a bike, only without the street signs.

We were definitely back.

**The End**


End file.
